


Grave Tidings

by LunasWufei



Series: Snippets and Fix-Its [36]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21751957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunasWufei/pseuds/LunasWufei
Summary: Disclaimer: I own nothing affiliated with Harry Potter.Random thoughts, idea’s born of nothing. Here we go with the next one, as always AU, with liberties taken. Fem!Harry, for the fuck of it. Also making her powerful and MOD, a little dark but not evil, cause I want to. Enjoy if you can.
Series: Snippets and Fix-Its [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556170
Comments: 1
Kudos: 92





	Grave Tidings

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing affiliated with Harry Potter.
> 
> Random thoughts, idea’s born of nothing. Here we go with the next one, as always AU, with liberties taken. Fem!Harry, for the fuck of it. Also making her powerful and MOD, a little dark but not evil, cause I want to. Enjoy if you can.

Harriet Mary Potter, Harri to her friends, panted softly as she rested behind a gravestone, a curse blowing off an upper portion of it. 

  
  


“What’s the matter, Harriet, cannot face me? Much like your father… the  _ coward _ that he was!” Came the biting tone of one Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort, in his brand new body. The teenaged witch shuddered softly, and she was about to go out, like the Gryffindor she was, when she felt something. It was a tug, a magical jolt, coming from a beat up shack a few hundred meters away. She glanced at it, and the more she did, the greater she wanted to go to it. Another part of the gravestone splintered, and she bit her lip. Screw this. 

  
  


“Just going to hide, Po- Oh, running are we?” Tom said, watching her scamper from the headstone. He laughed and gave chase, though it was more like a measured gait, there was no way she would escape him. Every few dozen feet or so he fired a spell, to have her either dodge, or block it when she could. Ever present were his death eaters, amused by this game of cat and mouse. 

  
  


As Harriet got closer to the shack, she felt the magic tugging her harder, and it actually felt… nice. She huffed and then started to run harder, pushing her limits, which was difficult as she had been put under the Cruciatus. Her lungs were on fire, but she just needed to go a little further, that was all. She took her wand out and with a blasting curse the shack was demolished, and just as she was to reach the source of the tug, she screamed in pure pain. 

  
  


“Ah… the bone shattering curse, a favorite of yours, isn’t it… Macnair?” Tom said, having allowed one of his trusted lieutenants to knock down his hated foe. Harriet, for her part, did not stop. She cried in pain, but her face was set in determination, panting and tugging herself closer. “I admire the courage you possess, girl… but it is all for naught.” He said, chuckling as they had caught up with her. 

  
  


“Perhaps, my lord… she should not die this night?” Came the oily tones of Oliver Yaxley, his eyes roaming over the prone witch. “Perhaps she should be broken, my lord… before you show your mercy and take her miserable life.” He said, and gave her a great, nasty leer that made her bones shudder. 

  
“Perhaps you are correct, Yaxley… after all, she has thrice defied me as had her parents… she has earned her punishment.” Tom said, smirking, truly evil to subject a girl to such a thing. The girl in question panted softly, and crawled a bit away, while those around her watched, amused. It wasn’t until she took out a small box from the ground, that Tom blinked and then snarled. 

  
“Give that to me, girl!” Tom hissed out, with a venom and malice that made his death eaters pause. They had rarely seen him so… incensed. 

  
  


“What’s the matter, Tom.” Harriet said, through biting groans. “This important to you?” She asked, opening it, and taking out a ring that had him grip his wand tighter. “I like it… it feels nice. Maybe i’ll put it on.” She said, and then he smirked. 

  
  


“Ah, by all means… put it on.” Tom said, and his followers relaxed, that ring was going to cause her untold agony, they could feel it. 

  
  


“If you insist, Tom.” Harriet said, before she did just that, and it made her hiss in pain for just a moment. The pain was gone as quickly as it had arrived, and she gasped as she looked at her hand start to be covered in deep, writhing blackness. 

  
  


“How do you like it, Potter? It’s a withering curse… you have perhaps two hours to live.” Tom said, smirking. “It will go to your extremities first, leaving your organs and brain for last. A rather… nasty piece of work, if I do say so myself.” He said, before turning softly. “Apologies, Yaxley, I will get you her mudblood friend in return for your playtime.” He said, before turning back to the strangely calm, and pain free girl. 

  
  


“Of course my lord, thank you my lord.” Yaxley said, bowing slightly, and then everyone started to watch in fascination as Harriet twitched and whimpered, but it wasn’t from pain, just slight discomfort. Then the laughter came, not the kind from maddening pain, but from joviality. 

  
  


“Tom… Tom you silly boy.” Harriet said, in a tone far stranger than that of a girl who should be screaming in agony. She slowly, gingerly got up, and gasped as her shattered leg remade itself, and just in time as a killing curse impacted with her, sending her stumbling back lightly. 

  
  


“What is this?” Tom said, snarling softly, his eyes glistening with a spark of fear. 

  
  


“It was one of the hallows, Tom… the strongest of the three.” Harriet said, whisper quiet, but it seemed to carry to every ear. Her eyes looked up, a slight madness in them, but nothing overly so. Instead, most of all, was a desire for revenge… to bring pain. Her champion’s robes changed, to that of a dark, light absorbing cloak, billowing in such a way that Snape would be jealous. She took the form of the cliche reaper, and somehow it looked even worse that she still had her pale flesh. Her shoes melted away, letting her feet touch the floor, decay and death taking the surrounding vegetation as she did so. 

  
  


“No… it’s not possible, it’s not fair!” Tom snarled, before snapping another killing curse at her, which just seemed to be sucked into the cloak. 

  
  


“Tut, tut, Tom.” Harriet said, a grin on her face that made him stumble back, as did his death eaters. “I am what you fear, what you fly from.” She said, stepping closer, the ground under her feet festering with each step. “In the end… all dance with the reaper.” She said, hand extending, and the feared scythe of The Grim Reaper appeared, and with a swipe of it the nearest death eater dropped. 

  
  


“It seems he has eaten death… are you next, Tom?” Harriet said, stepping closer, watching one of the smarter death eaters apparating out, and then another after that. She extended a hand and Tom found himself unable to move, unable to access his magic. “You don’t get to leave, Tom… oh no. You get to stay right where you belong.” She said, hissing deeply and then like a switch, her calmer, darker demeanor was gone. Instead, she was a figure of roiling, deadly fury. 

  
  


“You have taken so much from me, from everyone in this world, Tom Marvolo Riddle!” Harriet bellowed, though at that volume it was just for the two of them, it made his bones rattle. “Your life, your soul, your very existence is over!” She screamed, and the blade seemed to glow with an ethereal white, sucking every bit of magic it could from his constructed form. 

  
  


“No… no! I am immortal, you cannot take me!” Tom said, fear in his voice, and the last Death eater to see this, balked at the horrifying sight. Lucius Malfoy watched as his master, his Lord Voldemort, was cut down. The blade took his magic, his essence, his soul. It absorbed it, and then from different directions, several other pieces of blackness connected with the blade. 

“Nothing escapes death… Tom. Nothing.” Harriet said, as the last of his soul screamed and was then silent. The blade’s hilt rested on the floor, and her emerald gaze turned to Lucius, who paled and stepped back. “Your arm, Malfoy.” She said, and like a puppy eager to please, he presented and bared his arm. The dark mark, no longer sickly in its blackness, but a pale grey, rested there. 

  
  


“Do you wish it removed, Lucius?” Harriet asked, her eyes boring into his. He could not tear his eyes from hers, and it was like she was staring into his soul. 

  
  


“Yes.” Lucius said, one word, that was all she needed. She saw into his mind, and while his magic was dark, he had no true evil in his heart. A set of fingers dragged the mark off of his skin, and she tossed the magic to the side, where it evaporated into nothing. 

  
  


“Tell your former cronies, those who followed the fool, that they are next.” Harriet said, smirking. “And that they will not get the same… hospitality.” She said, and Lucius nodded before leaving with a loud ~crack~, his nerves making his apparition just a bit sloppy. Harriet sighed and looked to where Tom had returned, she had some work to do.

  
  


~GT~

  
  


Those watching, and waiting for the tournament to end, sat on bated breath once the hedges came down. Their champion should have arrived minutes ago, almost a half an hour, and too occupied were they that they did not notice Moody smirking. Dumbledore was concerned, but only because his weapon was lost, for now. There was a swirl of color, and then the music started once the Hufflepuff yellow and black appeared, with a stumbling Cedric. 

  
  


The other two figures, however, gave everyone pause. One was a man thought to be dead, a Peter Pettigrew, the other was a pallid Harriet Potter, in robes that made everyone around reel back lightly. Her eyes, piercing and cold, roamed over the crowd, until she found who, or what she was looking for. Her scythe, which also made the crown nervous, was raised a few inches off the floor, and then slammed down. 

  
There was a strangled scream, and a bodily protest, but soon everyone saw Alastor ‘Mad-eye’ Moody fighting tendrils of the darkest magic imaginable. The blade of the weapon was put to his neck, and he tensed, as he saw it was not a traditional scythe. It was sharp on both edges, making it a terrible weapon indeed. When she spoke, it made the crown shudder, a tone so cold that some of the fires around dimmed a bit. 

  
  


“Bartemius Crouch Junior…. You think yourself capable of fleeing from me?” Harriet said, and everyone watched in horror as the man’s body changed, and those in the know saw the effects of polyjuice potion, until Moody was gone, left with one Barty Crouch Jr. 

  
  


“My master… he has returned, hasn’t he?” Jr. said, a mad glint in his eyes. 

  
  


“He did return, yes… for all of ten minutes.” Harriet said, and she lifted part of her cloak, showing the screaming, writhing soul of Tom. He beat against a field of magic, soundless in his torment, until his eyes went wide as he was pulled away by some unseen force. “He’s being taken to oblivion now, Barty… as will you.” She said, raising her scythe for the killing blow when she found herself pushed back by a powerful stunner. She looked up with a glare worthy of her visage, to see Dumbledore blinking at her, surprised. 

  
  


“Ms. Potter, he must be tried, and you must place your weapon down and cease this dark spell casting.” Dumbledore said, with his imperious, yet grandfatherly tone. What he got in return was not the weapon being dropped, or a chastised little girl, but a soft laugh and a smirk. 

  
  


“I understand now, Dumbledore… I understand everything.” Harriet said. “I understand untold eons of knowledge, but you in particular… oh yes.” She said, licking her lips and hissing. “I do not know why, but she forgives you, she has told me.” She said, walking towards the prone form of Barty, who was still encircled by binding tendrils. Pettigrew was bound by similar, though he was unconscious. The crowd had been dispersed, though most of the older students, and adults in attendance, were still there. Someone had called for the Aurors, and they were just arriving. 

  
  


“Can someone tell me why there are two supposedly dead men on the floor, and make it quick!” Came the agitated tone of Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE. She was walking with her contingent of Aurors, wands out, at the ready. They paused at the visage of Harriet, but then she stepped forward. “Shacklebolt, Tonks, get anyone under the age of eighteen out of here. Now!” She said, and with a snap of attention, the two Aurors went to do just that. “Yaxley!” She barked, waiting for him to come to her. 

  
  


“Oh, back so soon, Yaxley.” Harriet hissed, and a swipe of her scythe from her dozen or so feet away had the man clenching his arm, showing the dark mark in all it’s glory, before he was stunned and dropped by Amelia herself. 

“I’d like to kindly ask that you put the weapon down, Ms. Potter.” Amelia said, turning to the scythe wielding witch. 

  
  


“I’d ask the same of you and yours, Madame Bones, but we both know that is not going to happen.” Harriet said, calmly, and then hissed when she saw the minister walking their way, with two bastardizations of herself: Dementors. 

  
  


“What is the meaning of this?” Minister Fudge said, shuffling forward with an enraged look on his face. “Dark magic running rampant, my tournament in ruins, and two supposedly dead people appearing out of nowhere?!” He near bellowed, before screaming like a child when the Dementors shrieked and were devoured by Harriet’s magic, until there was nothing left but their decayed cloaks. “My dementors!” He whimpered, looking at Harriet, who looked none too pleased. 

  
  


“I am going to take great pleasure and removing those abominations from my world, Minister.” Harriet said, stepping closer menacingly. “Though not before I reap everyone they guard.” She said, with a sinister grin, her blade up to deflect a spell from her headmaster. “Let’s not try that again, Dumbledore, I’d rather not want to be responsible for taking off your  _ fucking head! _ ” She snarled out, and he backed off. Her gaze went to Madam Bones, who stepped forward. 

  
  


“I want to take these two men into custody, am I going to have issues with that, Ms. Potter?” Amelia said, and she watched Harriet step back with a gesture as if to say ‘go right ahead.’

  
  


“If I find out they were given the kiss, or let off the hook, I will be very… disappointed, Madam Bones.” Harriet said, though as she spoke her gaze was solely on the Minister, who looked close to wetting himself. 

  
  


“I’ll make sure they are taken care of, seeing as they should be dead.” Amelia said, before she had them both port-keyed to secure ministry cells, waiting for processing. Yaxley got one himself, after he was bound and stripped of everything even remotely dangerous, or that could be used a portkey. 

“Well… I am rather famished, I think a nice dinner is in order.” Harriet said, before her cloak formed into a less terrifying set of robes. They were still dark, but they had different color trimming per the four houses of her beloved Hogwarts. Her feet were still bare, and her scythe vanished, and then she was off towards the school, as if nothing at all had changed. Though she was no longer visibly exuding the roiling darkness, it was still felt around her, so there was a rather large berth made for her. She could get used to this, and she knew it would be all kinds of fun from this point on. 

~GT~

  
  
  


Harriet sat in the large, comfy chair right in front of the headmaster’s desk, while he conversed with the Minister. She was blocking out the more agitating tones of the man, as he seemed to be all a bluster about everything that had happened. Apparently Harriet was a dark witch, and should be in prison for not only practicing ‘evil’ magic, but for destroying ministry property. Her eyes were closed, so she did not notice she was being looked at until her name was called. She opened her eyes and looked at the headmaster, tilting her head softly. 

  
  


“Well, what do you have to say for yourself, girl?!” Minister Fudge said, and he was surprised at the gentle blink from the young woman. 

  
  


“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, was there a question?” Harriet asked, and he twitched and reddened in anger. He was about to start spouting vitriol again, when the headmaster interrupted him. 

  
  


“The minister was just wondering where you learned all of this… magic, Harriet my dear.” Dumbledore said, only a slight twinkle in his eyes, but still he seemed disappointed in her willingness to use such dark magic. 

  
  


“It was gifted to me, a mantle has been passed.” Harriet said, smiling softly. “Cadmus used the stone wrong, never realizing just what power lay within.” She said, and Dumbledore froze, knowing exactly what stone she was talking about. “It was not just meant to call spirits, or bring back the dead. Oh no.” She said, sighing softly and leaning back. “It was,  _ Is _ his heart, headmaster.” She finished, showing him the ring that held the stone.

  
  


“I… that is what you meant when you said she forgave me?” Dumbledore said more than asked, even if it was posed as a question. 

  
  


“Mhmm, you are correct, Albus.” Harriet said, and at his surprised look she shrugged. “You use my given name without permission, so I am doing the same. Petty, I know, but I am a teenager.” She said, smirking lightly. “Just with eons of knowledge, at my beck and call.” She said, before turning to the minister and holding up her hand. “Just shut up and go, the big players are talking, and you’re agitating one who is a little unhinged.” She said with a grin, and he paled before sputtering a goodbye and leaving. Just as she was about to speak again, Fawkes flamed in, but instead of landing on his perch he landed on the armrest of her chair. 

  
  


“Ah, hello Fawkes. It’s good to see you again.” Harriet said, and the immortal bird let out a soft trill, making her smile. “Fawkes if a symbol of the light, Headmaster, and he knows I am darkness personified. I am not evil, just… dark.” She said, glancing at Dumbledore, before looking back to the task of caressing the majestic birds head. 

  
  


“Darkness often leads to evil, Ms. Potter.” Dumbledore said, and Fawkes gave him a look that clearly said ‘don’t be absurd.’ 

  
  


“If you let it, yes, headmaster, it would.” Harriet replied, before turning to Dumbledore again, Fawkes taking a short flap of his wings to sit on his perch. “But like I said, not five minutes ago, I have eons of knowledge, to temper me. To give me wisdom of my actions.” She said, before standing with a soft, languid stretch. “Now, I am tired, headmaster… I am going to bed.” She said, and before he could respond, she left in a wisp of dark smoke. 

  
  


“She is truly not evil, my old friend?” Dumbledore asked of the radiant avian to his side, and he got a soft, affirmative trill, before Fawkes went back to nestling his head under his wing to sleep. Dumbledore popped a lemon drop, he had a lot to think about, that was for certain. 

  
  


~GT~

  
  


The rest of term was tense, mostly due the fact that the literal personification of death was walking the halls of Hogwarts. It was not overly gloomy, or cold, or depressing… everyone was just tense. They did not know if the legendary Potter temper would lead to a sudden reaping, or a lifetime or torment. The only ones who seemed to not care in the slightest, were the other parts of the golden trio. As as well as a third year by the name of Luna Lovegood. She seemed to just enjoy the company of the dark witch, who some believed would be the next one to attempted to take over the wizarding world. It didn’t help that such a thing was being plastered all over the  _ Prophet _ , not that Harriet really cared. 

  
  


Before the train ride home, there had been two more incidents worth remembering. The first was the removal of the dark mark from Severus’ arm, and the promise that he was truly free. It took showing him the writhing mass of Tom’s soul to convince him, but he was out of the school faster than he could slice wheat-grass for his potions. He would only be returning to teach the upper years, he was done teaching anyone under year six and seven. The second item of note was when Dumbledore asked that Harriet return to her relatives. The staring contest that ensued, followed by the almost mocking laughter, nipped that right in the bud. Dumbledore was told, quite bluntly, that she would rather cuddle with Tom than return to that house. No, she would be going to her godfather’s house, and living there until she moved out on her own, whenever that was. 

  
Sirius had been surprised at the look of his goddaughter when she stepped off the train, but embraced her anyway. He had been cleared of all charges, and Peter was sitting pretty in his old cell, with his core bound, and anti-magic shackles on him, just in case. Not that he was an incredibly violent criminal, but he was slippery. 

  
  


“Look at you, all grown up.” Sirius said, getting a soft roll of the eyes from his teenage goddaughter. “Well, at least since I last saw you. Then again, I might have been going delirious from hunger, and dehydration. Semantics.” He said, waving his hand, and getting another hug in return from his chuckling goddaughter. 

  
  


“Let's go home, Sirius, I want to enjoy my summer with my family.” Harriet said, and got a beaming smile in return, and then in a wisp of black smoke, they were gone from the platform. 

  
  


~GT~

  
  


“Sweet Merlin, what the bloody hell was that, pup?” Sirius asked when they appeared in the foyer of Grimmauld Place. He stumbled a bit, shaking his head as she took a deep, almost bone rattling breath, before letting it out. 

  
  


“Oh… this place is nice. Rich and dark, enveloping, even.” Harriet said, stroking her hand along the nearest wall, feeling the centuries of dark magic that had been poured into the wards and the like in this house. 

  
  


“Yeah, even if I never liked being here, the darkness always felt… welcome.” Sirius admitted, though a bit shyly, as he did not like admitting that his childhood home always felt right. 

  
  


“You are a Black, of course it feels welcome, Sirius.” Harriet said, before she walked out of the foyer, and then he cursed when he heard the deranged screaming of his late mother’s portrait. Then, as soon as it began, it was silenced. He ran out to see it cut cleanly off the wall, lying in three pieces on the floor. There was a soft ~pop~, and then a wailing not a moment after. 

  
  


“No! My mistress… what have they done to you!” Said a rather grungy, old looking house elf. He growled and turned to look up at the mangler of his mistress, but he froze and stepped back. House elves, most all creatures actually, knew who this being was. He shuddered softly and bowed, snapping his fingers so that the remains of the portrait were gone. “My apologies, dark Lady, you may do as you please.” He said, before he vanished with another bow. 

  
  


“Well, that just happened.” Sirius said, getting a snort from his goddaughter, before he directed her towards the kitchen. Her nose wrinkled softly and then she grinned lightly, before speaking. 

  
  


“Dobby, Winky.” Harriet said, and the ‘y’ at the end of Dobby barely left her lips before said elf was there. He was bouncing back and forth, a huge grin on his face. Winky was just as excited, though she held it in better. 

  
  


“Great Mistress of Death Harriet Potter, she be calling us!” Dobby said, grinning widely, and then bowing along with Winky who curtsied. 

  
  


“What can we be doing for our mistress?” Winky said, looking up with a wide smile of her own. She had been accepted into a family, the greatest of all dark families. 

  
  


“Though it is rich in dark magic, and flowing in it’s intensity, this place is a hovel.” Harriet started, getting a snort from Sirius. “Clean it up, starting with the kitchen, please. Me and my godfather will make due with food.” She said, and before Winky could look affronted at such a thing, she held up her hand. “It will give us time to bond, and learn more about each other.” She said, and Winky nodded. “Feel free to get the assistance of other elves, I know those in Hogwarts can be mighty bored in the summer.” She finished, and her elves nodded and popped away. 

  
  


“You’re a natural with commanding attention and respect.” Sirius said with a grin. “So, tell me all about this Dark Lady business. I need details, my darling goddaughter!” He said, and lead her into the kitchen, where they indeed bonded and spoke over creating a meal for the two of them. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Alright, and that is the end there. I could honestly think of nothing else, really. As always, read and review, I welcome it all. Nonconstructive criticism, as well as any and all flames, will be disregarded and deleted. Thank you, and have a wonderful day. 


End file.
